


Take Me To Church

by girl_next_door_writes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 03:46:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16885041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girl_next_door_writes/pseuds/girl_next_door_writes
Summary: You are Crowley’s favourite addiction.





	Take Me To Church

Sitting at the end of the bed, he bent over and ran a hand over his careworn face. Your sleeping form lay behind him, naked and fully satiated with the hint of a smile on your kiss-swollen lips. No matter how many times he told himself this was the last time, the epilogue to your relationship, he would find himself right back here. His fingers trailing over your silky-smooth flesh, his tongue tasting each delectable inch of you, his body craving yours.

You were so much more than just a human, more than a conquest. Your first encounter had marked you out as such. He had dropped by at a funeral, better to ensure this particular ‘person’ wasn’t about to return. During the somber service, you had giggled, the light tinkling sound drawing the attention of a not a few people, including the self-styled King of Hell. The way you seemed to brush off the disapproving glances made him smile, raising an eyebrow as your eyes met his.

What followed was a sordid, frantic fumble in a dingy motel room. All slamming against walls and ripping of clothes. Your presence alone had the King eager and desperate to feel something in a life that currently felt as if he were drowning in a sea of ambivalence. If he had known then what he did now, he would have taken his time, tried to impress you instead of just sinking into his usual routine of dominance, pinning you to the bed and taking what he felt was his right.

It wasn’t until he was fully sheathed in you, warm and welcoming, your back arching, soft moans falling from your lips, the moonlight streaming in through the window and across your face, that he realised this was different. There was a connection here.

When you looked at him, it was as if every ounce of breath was taken from his lungs, leaving him breathless. Each kiss felt as if the entire universe had paused, shifted and rearranged itself, placing you both in the centre. You never left his mind, not really, your presence a constant source of comfort. He had lived long enough to know that what you shared couldn’t simply be replicated with another. His movements paused, and as you felt him still, you had looked up at him in amusement, raising an eyebrow questioningly as a smile played at the corners of your mouth.

And just like that, Crowley had found something he hadn’t even realised he had been craving. The only heaven he knew was in these stolen moments alone with you. In your arms, in your kiss, in your sex, he was free, and that kept him coming back to you over and over.

After that first time together, there had been no more motel rooms. No, you had deserved better than that. Your increasingly frequent rendezvous were now in plush hotel rooms, on beds adorned with Egyptian cotton, with the finest champagne on ice. Only once had he made the mistake of offering you a gift, a necklace that was as predictable as it was sparkling. You had looked at him with such affront, asked him if this was a ‘payoff’ for your secret encounters with one another. He realised his error and after a stumbling and in-eloquent explanation, which was most uncharacteristic, you were finally appeased. You assured him that you didn’t require his tokens, just that he sacrifice himself to you between the sheets.

No words of love were spoken, no promises or plans of a bright future together. That wasn’t how this worked. But he loved you – Oh, how he loved you, and in each encounter, he attempted to convey this in his actions. Here, in this room with you, he wasn’t a king or a powerful demon. Tonight, his ministrations were sweet and innocent as you both engaged in such a gentle sin. Your naked form writhed beneath him as he placed soft and tender kisses to your jaw, trailing them lightly over your neck. His hand cupping and caressing your breast as he rolled your nipple between his finger and thumb. His warm breath fanning over your skin as his kisses ran over your other breast. Your back arching as his teeth grazed over you. His lips sucking teasingly as his hand now slid down your side, over your hip. A well-practiced dance between the two of you which didn’t lose any potency for its frequency.

His lips continued on their journey, his fingers finding their destination, a low growl emitting from him as he discovered just how ready you were for him. One and then two fingers slipping inside you, curling slightly, wanting to make certain you were prepared for what was to come. His tongue now lapping hungrily at your folds, rolling over the bundle of nerves which he always paid such close attention to. Sucking, licking, teasing, bringing you to the edge of oblivion, only to deny you the sweet release as he worshipped you in the most tortuously sensual way.

Your fingers gripping his hair as your hips bucked always brought a smile to his lips, and when he felt you were ready to take him he allowed you to fall. The way you tensed beneath him, your toes curling and the sounds he drew from you had him throbbing, desperate to feel you around him. Crawling up over you, your hands connected, fingers interlacing and eyes meeting as he found you, sliding slowly, reveling in the sensation, wanting to draw out this initial thrust as long as he could. In this moment he was cleansed of everything. The madness and instinct of this act was as close to pure as he could ever hope to be, and although he knew you deserved so much more than him, he couldn’t stop.

Your hips rolled to his, and although the pace between you was bordering on excruciatingly slow, not once did you break eye contact. His eyes greedily took in each micro-expression that flitted across your face: The way your plump lips parted, your pupils so lust blown there was barely any trace of your actual eye colour. Easing out until only his tip remained, he paused for a fraction of a second before sliding right back into you, a low, breathy moan pulled from him as you took all of him. He cherished these moments, wished he could live right here in them with you, to always feel this way. He allowed you to set the pace, dictating how you wanted him, the entire act only ever about you.

His eyes finally closed as his head rested on your shoulder, each thrust deeper, harder, faster as he felt you come undone once more. Your body gripping him tighter, your fingernails digging into his shoulders as you lost yourself in that instant of deathless death. His body stuttered, his own petite mort rolling over him. In that moment he was almost human. Just a man conveying to a woman how much he loved and needed her.

That was why he sat at the end of the bed, sheet wrapped around his waist, with his head in his hands. He wasn’t human, not even close. This was wrong, and not in the sense of the ‘wrong’ things he delighted in achieving every day; this ‘wrong’ brought him guilt and shame. This would bring about either your downfall or his. He concluded that this had to be the last time.

As if sensing his distress, you stirred, and he was immediately by your side, fingers caressing your hair as his eyes roamed over your face.

Yes, this would be the final time.

Just like he had decided last time, and the time before that.


End file.
